Author: ISM Media Group

Reflections from an Irish Activist in Palestine (Part 2/3)

Part II

The border police at Al-Ibrahimiye mosque and Cave of Machnela Synagogue checkpoint evidently need serious doses of caffeine to get into harassment mode. They knock back glass after glass of Saada (black Arabic coffee), becoming gradually more vocal towards each other and Palestinian passers-by. This ultimately reaches fever-pitch, whereby the Master and Commander of the unit and one of the female officers are shouting for no apparent reason, apart from the fact that they like to do so. Ever hear of the proverb ’empty barrels make most noise?’

It was the first thing that I thought of when trying to figure out why they felt the need to assert themselves in such a verbally intimidating manner. Said, one of the first victims of detentions that morning, is in his mid-twenties – cleaner shaven than I am and impeccably dressed, he attempted to enter the mosque for prayers. 1 hour and 15 minutes later of standing in the sun (despite our appeals he be allowed to stand in the shade), the army and police having warned him not to talk to the international monitors nearby, he is informed that he cannot enter the mosque. His calmness acts as a sign that this is not the first time he has been refused, nor will it be the last.

He informs me through a Red Crescent delegate friend that he has been rejected for 2 reasons. For having CD-Roms in his folder, and for allegedly being a member of Hamas. The CD’s are not confiscated and thus are hardly deemed a security threat. Said is also obviously not anyone of political significance, even if he is a member of Hamas, as he is allowed to go back the same he came. Freedom of movement is one of the basic tenets of a democracy, one we all take for granted, and one learns quickly to appreciate it even more while living in such a militarised area.

As I walked and talked with Said through the economically devastated Old City market area, a sizeable rock – about 7 inches in diameter – thrown from the roof of the adjoining Synagogue, narrowly missed us and local shop-owners. Unfortunately no steel mesh protection roofing has been constructed here so pedestrians are an open target for stone throwers. Not the ideal area to construct a moderately successful business in order to sustain your family with their daily needs! Hence the fact that shop owners have had to bolt up and get out – the tourism industry being all but devastated as a result of the occupation and consequential lack of security, bad publicity.

In Ireland, visitors often comment that our towns and cities are laden with pub after pub after pub. In the West Bank that can be rephrased to read – checkpoint after checkpoint after checkpoint or – barrier after barrier after barrier. According to B’tselem, the leading Israeli human rights organisation, the West Bank alone has over 40 manned and 470 physical obstacles that prevent freedom of movement. It is always unpredictable when one approaches a soldier, border police or police officer. The aim is to aid a detained Palestinian, to diplomatically (or not so diplomatically, depending on the situation) put pressure on them to speed up the process and subtly remind them that they are being watched. I have no doubt that the fact we take video camera footage while they are breaching people’s civil liberties annoys them to a great extent, because they know they can’t get away with their usual humiliating tactics which they deploy upon Palestinian civilians.

One can get used to their aggression, guns and ignorance easily. By attempting to divide and conquer, the Israeli security apparatus deliberately try to ruin the good relationships between internationals and Palestinians. But they have been without success, and the reciprocal respect between Palestinian locals and internationals, who have come alongside them to fight the occupation, only gets stronger and stronger against the occupier.

The consequences for our Palestinian friends, whether politically active or not, is cruel and arbitrary. Question the police or army’s decision-making process with logic and persistence and you are sure to find yourself landed into a holding-cell, or maybe even prison – sometimes for up to six weeks, without any charges being brought or access to a lawyer, upholding of one’s basic human rights. Habeas Corpus, a basic legal principle that has helped protect individual’s civil liberties worldwide, quite simply does not exist here. Arbitrary detentions can last years without a person being charged or convicted. I’ve only spent 6 weeks in jail in Ireland (www.peaceontrial.com) for nonviolent political activity, so to begin to imagine such a nightmare scenario where there is no certainty of one’s future nor for the welfare of one’s family, is quite simply impossible and dreadful at the same time.

Being an ‘international’ monitor at military checkpoints and generally behaving as a non-violent activist at actions against the Apartheid Wall, to give but one example, is a excellent experience, yet requires a great deal of patience, high energy levels and an ability to remain logical and organised under stress. In a sense, being an activist in Hebron at the moment is somewhat similar to a soldier’s life. Long periods of relative inactivity are interspersed with spurts of intense activity. Things can flare up rapidly – settler attacks, new army checkpoints and harassment measures.

If things are relatively peaceful in our region of Palestine then we must be grateful for that peace and not fall into the trap of feeling bored. Being an activist doesn’t always mean you have to be ‘active’ on the frontlines or attend every action. Often, not being present in the local area can adversely affect your everyday ordinary work of living in a community and being on call if locals require your assistance.

I suspect there can be a tendency in all of us who have come here to be politically active and with an engaged activist mindset that if you’re not being active by removing roadblocks, dodging tear gas canisters or confronting bulldozers then you are being under-utilised. It challenges our preconceptions of what work we thought we would be engaged in. The latter are of course all quintessential to going about the work of nonviolence, yet the daily drag of the occupation and the benefits of peaceful moments should not be under-played. They are opportunities to immerse into the community more, to meet as many people as possible, to play street soccer with the kids, to learn Arabic and teach English or other languages and to skills share with other activists, e.g. video editing, arts and crafts, language learning, juggling, chess playing, report and journal writing – the list is endless.

I greatly admire those who have put themselves forward and suffered much to oppose the occupation without use of arms. Yet for anyone who intends on joining the ISM for a short length of time my advice is not to be an activist tourist during you month or so long stay. Wherever you find yourself, be there fully with both mind and body.

Almost Another Massacre in Jenin

Jenin, September 11th

In the early morning hours one of the biggest Israeli invasions since weeks occurred in the refugee camp of Jenin. It was also close to becoming one of the biggest massacres.

At around 7:30am this morning, nine Palestinian boys were injured by Israeli gunfire in the refugee camp of Jenin.

Locals reported that at approximately 3am numerous IOF jeeps entered the camp, coming from several directions. While the governorate officially confirmed the presence of at least 11 Israeli military vehicles, many eyewitnesses reported more then thirty.

The army besieged the house of a local male in the east of the camp, causing resistance by Palestinian freedom fighters. Several explosions could be heard during the night. While some locals reported that they were caused by grenades thrown by Islamic Jihad at Israeli soldiers, others reported that the army caused the explosions themselves.

While during these clashes no casualties could be reported, Israeli soldiers almost created a massacre among local schoolchildren. Between 7:15 and 7:30am dozens of young kids left their houses for school. When some of them started to throw bottles and stones at the IOF jeeps, soldiers began randomly shooting at the children without giving any warning.

9 young boys aged between 13 and 16 were left wounded. Some of them were hit by live bullets in legs and torso. They were brought to hospitals in Jenin and Nablus. At the time being it’s still uncertain if one of the boys, who received a shot into his stomach, is going to survive.

Potentially coinciding with this invasion the IOF conducted several other actions during this night in Jenin area.

Security sources reported that from 9pm to 4am the IOF entered numerous Palestinian villages, like Al-Araqa and Maithalun. At 9pm IOF jeeps were also seen blocking Haifa road in the northwest of Jenin, as well as Nablus road later that evening. Furthermore a number of flying checkpoints were placed around Jenin during the night. Witnesses reported that soldiers were searching cars with the help of dogs. Checkpoints were placed at Arraba, Hadad, Kafr Ra’i and al-Jarba.

Meanwhile a Palestinian child from Jenin died of injuries he received, when last Thursday an Israeli soldier shot a rubber coated steel bullet into his head

Salamat Sahbi Akram

It was meant to become one of those reports about these surrealities, you probably only can find in Palestine. About the tension of a nightly visit to an internet cafe, which ended up surrounded by security forces. A story about the absurdity of a night, where every passing Jeep spit more disguised men on an extinct street, who wished a friendly as-salem alaikum with pointed Kalashnikovs. About the humor of a night, where inspite of fighting lasting for hours, nine year old children could be seen passing by on pink bicycles. And it was meant to become a report about the tragedy of an evening, where once again Palestinians fought against each other.

But on the next morning nothing is left but tragedy. My friend Akram is dead, he died last night.

It was Thursday about 10 pm, when members of the Palestinian security forces in Jenin routinely stopped a car in order to check its registration papers. The people inside were members of Islamic Jihad and they don’t like to be checked so easily, even less so by the disdainful security forces. Just some few dozen meters lie between them and Jenin refugee camp. The place where they have the power, the place where security forces are not admitted. Clashes break out, verbally, when Akram joins the scene to arbitrate. Seconds later he lies on the street with two bullets in his chest.

Akram Ibrahim Abu as-Sba’, the man who I always took for two when I became acquainted with him, cause I didn’t recognize him in his uniform, was brought to Jenin’s government hospital and died there a little later. Killed by fighters of Islamic Jihad. Murdered because of a stolen car.

Barely 24 hours before we were sitting comfortably in his little store, lounging in two blue plastic chairs. This small DVD store in the center of Jenin, where he probably never sold a single movie, but where you could always find him after 12. Where we so often spent time together in aimless conversation. About the confusion of Palestinian policy, about alcohol and our work. About the invasion last night, about girls and stolen cameras.

But much more then our conversations, his person stays in my memory. How he, always grinning, lingered behind his desk, nothing ever on top except an ashtray and a pack of cigarettes. How he didn’t understand my questions, because he had had one glass of Arak too much. Or how this man who spoke English fluently, always questioning himself after every second sentence, if his chosen words really had the intended meaning. How, when I moaned that I needed to meet this leader or that chairman, he simply, without promises lasting for weeks, looked up the suitable number in his mobile and placed the desired person next to me minutes later.

Always when the daily life in the camp, the hospitality, became too much, when the people became too pushy for me, I came to visit him. To get away for a while from what is so special here, but often also hardly bearable in this city. That is not to say that Akram wasn’t a typical inhabitant of Jenin, a typical Mucheiemi, but he was never too extreme. He was faithful to Fatah, but did not hate Hamas. He was a member of Abu Mazen’s Force 17, but he respected the militias. He had this typical Arabic hospitality, but you didn’t have to beg him to refuse a coffee. Some years ago the Israelis destroyed his house, but he didn’t hate those who once again turned his family into refugees.

If they give me Mucheiem I am happy, he said once while looking at the prospective shape of a Palestinian state. And if you know him, you know that this was probably not far from the truth. Akram was a happy man. He was happy as a husband, happy as a father of four children and just happy sitting behind his big desk in his small DVD store.

Now some more dozen posters are added to the thousands on the house walls of Jenin. Now also Akram lies here besides all the others in the martyr graveyard of the refugee camp of Jenin. The occupation is not exciting. The occupation is not an accumulation of bizarre everyday situations. And even if it seems to be absurd, it is never comic. Not even if it lasts 60 years. Occupation means suffering and dying – everyday.

But of the few things that are left under this occupation, we at least have friendship. In Mucheiem Jenin there is hardly a guy to find, who can be called such a one by so many people. He was a great friend. Salamat sahbi Akram.

Settler Intimidation in Tel Rumeida

Hebron, September 8th

An incident occurred on the road between Tel Rumeida settlement and the checkpoint at the top of Tel Rumeida Road. At around 2pm one settler youth approximately 17 years old was walking around insulting Palestinian children. The settler then encouraged other young children to join in the abuse of the Palestinians. He then attempted to grab a camera from an ISM human rights worker (HRW) who had come to film the incident.

After a few minutes of hurling abuse at children and HRW’s the settler walked back up the hill towards Tel Rumeida settlement. Then he gathered 5 settler children aged about 10 years old round him. He encouraged them to kick the door of the last Palestinian house before the settlement. ISM activists rushed towards the house shouting for the soldiers to stop them and filming all the while. The soldiers only action was to stop one of the activists from filming. The presense of another activist with a camera deterred the children from causing further damage. The settler and the children leave towards the settlement.

Three minutes later the settler comes out of Tel Rumeida settlement carrying a partly drunk bottle of vodka. Bringing along the same group of children he came back down towards the checkpoint abusing Palestinians and HRW’s again. Two off duty soldiers carrying large wooden sticks manhandled the settler back up towards the settlement.

One soldier made all the Palestinian kids go back into their homes. Only after complaints from ISM HRW’s did he do the same to the settler kids who were causing the trouble.

An activist called the police who turned up after 5 minutes and spoke to eyewitnesses.
TIPH also made an appearance and spoke to onlookers.

Reflections from an Irish Activist in Palestine (Part 1/3)

The following is not an attempt at a comprehensive analysis of the current situation in the Occupied Territories of Palestine. Instead, it is a reflection on the past few weeks I have spent with the International Solidarity Movement in the city of Hebron and its environs and what brought me here in the first place. It is completely subjective and deliberately intended to be so. I am a firm believer that the shortest distance between a person and the truth is a story. Many stories I have heard and read about regarding resistance to occupation, capitalism, imperialism have formed my sense of what is right and wrong – and on which side of the fence I am on. So if you manage to read through this lengthy piece of writing, I hope the stories of resistance I have encountered over the past few weeks will also inspire you also to keep on fighting the powers that be, wherever and whenever you encounter them.

(Part 1/3)

It’s 8 a.m., Tuesday morning, and the city of Hebron – in the southern region of the West Bank of Palestine, has awoken. The initial morning calls to prayer from the surrounding mosques have well passed, a few Palestinian workers are wiping sleep from their eyes and some seem like they are in sleep-walking mode as they journey to work on foot from the heavily-militarised H2 Israeli district to the Palestinian Authority controlled H1 section.

It could be any other city in the world given the evident rituals of work, rest, and play – that is apart from the blatantly obvious fact that the city of Hebron is under a brutally repressive, 6,000 Israeli soldier strong, military occupation. And these soldiers are here to ‘protect’ the 600 or so settlers who live in the H2 area, which makes up 20% of all Hebron. Approximately 40,000 Palestinians lived in the area in 2005 but this number is steadily decreasing due to ever-increasing repression and violence

It is the first time I have ever lived in an occupied country. Even though I am from Ireland, the occupation of the Northern part of our country was a universe away for those of us who grew up in the southern Republic. Images that flashed on the screen on a daily basis when I was growing up remained just that – flashes on a screen. The impact of the Northern Ireland conflict on Irish society as a whole was nowhere to be seen, and was especially far removed from my home town, 130 kilometres away from the border. Yet, for those who have resisted imperialism and capitalism in the North of Ireland, the symbols of the Palestinian people and their struggle – which can be found in Republican areas of Northern Ireland – embody the universal spirit for true freedom. Fights against oppressive conditions tend to identify with each other easily and employ each others’ symbols in a clear manifestation of mutual solidarity. Hence, one can also see the Kurdish flag and Basque flag in a variety of districts in Belfast and Derry. That said, I have yet to see a tricolour here! But once one says they are from Ireland the amazing hospitality and friendliness of Palestinians elevates to even higher levels than normal.

Despite the fact that this is my first time in the Middle East, I have had previous voluntary experience in Haiti, where I worked for 3 months in early 2001. The stark poverty there and amazing spirit of survival manifested through their great sense humour and generosity was a significant eye-opener for a 21 year old from the midlands of Ireland. Haitians taught me many valuable lessons then about simple living, just as Palestinians have been teaching me invaluable lessons about their struggle since I arrived here almost 4 weeks ago. The domestic societal pressures I and other Westerners face, from San Francisco to Warsaw, Oslo to Madrid – whether to choose Nike or Adidas, Levis or Wranglers, Coca Cola or Pepsi – seems like such bullshit falsity when measured against the fact that it is ordinary Haitians who slave labour for our commodity overload and Palestinians who bear the brunt of our nation’s obsession with weapons sales to the Apartheid Israeli State.

Thankfully, groups like the ISM, Christian Peacemaker Team and many others exist to counter the exploitation and violence perpetuated by the political powerbrokers, cynical warmongers, and the ubiquitous capitalists.

In my own case, on return to Ireland after volunteering in Haiti, I had to decide whether I was to conform to the Irish Celtic Tiger economic expectation of attaining a brand-new 2.6 litre car, producing 2.3 children, constructing an 8 room house (3 times more than required), signing up for a 35 year mortgage in a cramped urban space with few social services, and putting aside a sufficient quantity of disposable income for 2 sun holidays a year in order to make up for the eternally falling rain in Ireland – and all by the time I would have reached 27 years old. Yes, I know, sounds pretty boring! And yet many feel forced into such economic and social traps, and of course not just in Ireland, by well-groomed real estate charmers, loan sharks and city councillor land rezoners, just because they want to start a family and bring up their kids in a secure environment.

That course of life may seem good to some, and more power to them if they can enjoy themselves and be active citizens at the same time. But for those of us who have had the privilege to form relationships with those who struggle to survive in their daily lives, whether amongst the poor and oppressed of the Global North or South, our responsibilities to respond through sharing some of their experiences and refusing to descend into slumber are to the fore of consciences. And that is exactly why I decided to come to Palestine (I know, it has taken me a while to get to this point) – to reignite my sense of responsibility towards the other, to develop mutually beneficial relationships with those having to confront occupation and violence in their normal daily rituals – of work, rest, and play. A Russian Israeli soldier recently sarcastically commented to me at Tel Rumeida checkpoint in Hebron, ‘so you’re like Jesus!’

Maybe it had more to do with the fact I hadn’t shaved for 10 days then what he perceived as an activist’s sense of moral superiority (though most human rights activist’s I’ve met are a very humble bunch). I ain’t no Jesus, and I hammer this home to the soldier calmly. I replied: ‘Well, for sure I’m not Jesus, but don’t forget either that at least he never carried a weapon with him nor harassed people!’ I doubt it resonated. He’s the same soldier that I mentioned earlier who guzzles back beer while on duty and harasses us with his armed buddy when we film him being abusive.

Anyhow, enough about soldiers. Thankfully I was free to come here, albeit for a short period of time, having no mortgage, kids (the only part of this triangle I would like to have) nor gas-guzzling car – and having a very understanding and supportive girlfriend and family to support me. I look upon it as a huge privilege and yet great challenge and responsibility to be able to travel and experience resistance against occupation by the people here. They have much to teach us who live in countries ridden with individualism and materialism.

Even though I’m from Ireland, for the past two years I have been residing in Poland, teaching English and desperately struggling to learn the nightmarish Polish language. So when I decided to initiate contact with the ISM about the possibilities of working alongside them in Palestine, I started to recall previous stories of theirs which I had followed. A good friend of mine had been shot in the leg by an IOF soldier in 2002 while others had volunteered as short-termers. Last year I attended a very well produced play in Ireland which was based on the journals by the very inspiring ISM’er Rachel Corrie. And before I left Poland by train to make my way here I just managed to finish reading Jocelyn Hurndall’s book about her son Tom, fatally shot by an IOF soldier in the Gaza Strip in 2003, just shortly after Rachel had been murdered.